Tiny Dancer
by Deandra
Summary: Morwen’s shyness keeps her away from the dance. Fluffy little ONESHOT. Part 87 of the Elfwine Chronicles.


_**Part 87 of the Elfwine Chronicles. The Elfwine Chronicles are a series of one-shots built around the family group of Eomer, Lothiriel and Elfwine. The total number will depend on how many ideas I get for new vignettes.**_

_**A/N: Got the title for this from an Elton John song. I'm not really an Elton John fan, and I can't really say that I even know what the song is about, but it led to this plot bunny all the same just off the title alone.**_

_**My home computer has died so this was created the old-fashioned way – with pen and paper. I'm a bit bogged down on the Esgalmir/Theodred story so that isn't progressing much just now. I did write Chronicle #100, so I have to hurry up and think of some 12 more stories so I can post that one. You'll just have to stay in suspense until I do! (Or send me plot bunnies in hopes of inspiring me…) B-Reader is nudging me to do an Elboron story, but as I pointed out to her, I haven't quite worked out yet "who" he is. Any suggestions for personality, interests or skills are welcome. Once I get a better handle on him, I can do more with him than just have him lurking in the background of stories, like he's done so far! (What little I've written about him over the "years" of his life has appeared in Legacy, History Lesson, Puddles, Brothers, Heroes, Détente, Bequest and Adv. of Theodred, if you want to look, but it isn't much.)**_

**Tiny Dancer**

**(May, 23 IV)**

She dipped and weaved in the shadows of the terrace, her arms held just so, as if clutching an imaginary partner. The feast had ended inside Meduseld quite some time ago, and the music and dancing were now in full swing in the Golden Hall. But for the King's youngest daughter, Morwen, there were no handsome boys vying for her favor or queuing up to be her next partner. Possibly they would have done so were she to be found, but the instant the meal had concluded, the painfully shy nine-year-old girl skittered out of sight, and watched enviously from the darkness at the gay time being had by everyone else. She tried to satisfy her desire to dance by her imaginary promenades with invisible gentlemen, and not admit, even to herself, the loneliness and unhappiness she always felt at such gatherings. She _wanted_ to participate; her family encouraged her to do so, but she was just too afraid of…of everything.

Theomund paused to catch his breath. He had danced the last five in a row, mostly because girls had pressed him to partner them and he was too affable to turn them down. He had never given much thought to why it was that girls seemed so interested in him, but at thirteen years he had been garnering feminine attention for almost two years. Gradually, he had begun to enjoy it, even if he didn't particularly examine it too closely, but at times he still found it a bit annoying and wearying. There were instances when he would much have preferred talking with his friends, but the girls seemed to follow them about, especially at these gatherings, and particularly him. He didn't like to be rude or hurt their feelings and, as the King's son, he was expected not to, so he tolerated it as long as he could, and then escaped to his room where he had plenty to interest him.

Already he had learned several tricks for buying himself brief respites, while he caught his breath and enjoyed a moment of quiet, and he knew Meduseld well enough to be able to slip in and out of the many doors to his advantage. His most recent egress put him on the terrace, and let him get a breath of fresh air as he circled the hall to enter from a more secluded vantage point, with access to the refreshment table.

For several moments, he just stood and enjoyed the cool night air on his face, catching the strains of the next dance starting up. Then a sound to his right caught his attention, and he turned to see a young girl. At first, he was unsure what she was doing, and started to call out to her. Suddenly he realized that it was Morwen, and that she was dancing, alone – but not alone.

He moved deeper into the shadows so she wouldn't see him observing her. He'd had no idea that she danced so well. Indeed, he rather thought she was better at it than he was. At first, it seemed curious that she was dancing out here by herself, rather than inside, but then he stifled a sigh. _No, not so strange. Dear, shy Morwen._

Still, it was a shame for her not to have a true dance partner…

With a grin, he stepped forward and as she twirled toward him, he reached out and caught her hand. Her eyes flew open and she let out a small shriek, until her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she recognized him. She was blushing madly with embarrassment, but before she could angrily berate him, as it was clear she was about to do, he bowed, and lifted her hand to kiss it. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

She stared at him, transfixed and unmoving, but he tugged at her hand and grinned reassuringly. A bright smile flooded her face, and she hesitantly let him guide her into the movements. Even though it was her brother, and no one could see, she still felt nervous and awkward, staying flushed quite red the entire time. But perhaps the thing that most helped calm and ease her shyness was Theomund's clumsiness.

He ambled along in his usual carefree manner, not very particular about how accurate his steps were, which also meant his feet were not always where they were supposed to be. And, sometimes, that meant his feet were where his partner's feet were intended to be at that moment. More than once Morwen winced as he trod on her toes and mumbled a 'sorry' to her, but it distracted her from other concerns.

Theomund stayed on the terrace awhile longer that night. He and Morwen procured refreshment, and danced together several more dances before finally turning in for the evening. Ever after that, Theomund made it a point to go looking for his sister, to dance in the dark on the terrace every time there was a feast. It took several years before he was finally able to coax her inside to dance with him and their brothers.

Over the years, through the loving efforts of her family, Morwen eventually became better able to cope with social situations, and was able to function in spite of her shyness. She became quite an avid dancer, and was very good at it. Between her good looks and status as the King's daughter, she was a much sought after dance partner whenever such was planned – both in Rohan and in Gondor. She had occasion to dance with some extremely fine dancers during all that time, including the Elf Legolas, friend of King Elessar, who proved amazingly light on his feet.

But for her entire life, her favorite dance partner of all was the older brother who tread upon her feet in the dark when she was but nine years of age.

THE END

7-24-06

**_End note:  It is best that you read the Elfwine Chronicles in the order they were written. The more of them that I wrote, the more likely I was to make reference to one of the previous ones and something that happened there. If you want to read them in order, go to the top of this page and click on my name (Deandra). That will take you to my profile page. Scroll down and you will find all the stories I have written. The Elfwine Chronicles are in order from bottom to top since ffn shows them in the order they were posted. A few were posted out of number order, but you can read them in posting order or number order since those few won't be affected in the story content._**


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